Theological Beginnings

I was looking at a post discussing the proper place to begin theologically, with creation being posited as the correct place. It seems to me that Anthropology would be the correct point from which to start. Every theological category begins and ends from our perception, our self-awareness. Everything rises and falls from our perception (true, life goes on beyond our perception, but beyond our perception it is practically meaningless until such time as it enters our sphere of awareness). Creation, even the concept of god, is secondary to our self-awareness and arises from it. Before you get to creation, there is the one observing and aware of creation. Creation without self-awareness is meaningless. God, without self-awareness, is meaningless. Of course, anthropology is impossible without other categories (such as creation), but everything relates back to the individuals perception. What is it that is perceiving - what is man? What am I? That seems to me a natural place to start.

Life Needs Death

Life is dependant upon death. The death of plants, animals, and all organic life-forms replenish the life giving nutrients of the earth. Without the cycle of life and death humanity, or any life, would be unsustainable. Food sources would not replenish themselves (plant, vegetative), and many species of life would be entirely deprived of food sources (carnivores, for example). Life as we know it depends upon death to be sustained.

There must be more than this
Faith is gone - life goes on.

No purpose in sight
Laugh, cry, hope, despair -
The point is somehow lost.

Life and death so intertwined -
Is awareness the real curse?

Hell as Hate

I had an unusual and unexpected discussion, or dialogue, with a co-worker today. He is, near as I can tell, of the evangelical christian persuasion, and a good guy. He is not pushy with his faith, nor rude about it. Today, in response to a question posed by another co-worker he responded by saying, "Hell no." Just for fun, I piped in, "why does it have to be Hell no? Why not just no." He good naturedly responded that he is free to say what he wants, to which I suggested that his use of the word hell is hateful and offensive. As far as it goes, this was mostly in jest, but it did make me think a little as we continued in dialogue. He stated that the word hell was not hateful - I of course, protested that it was indeed hateful, and discriminatory against us heathen. The dialogue only lasted for a couple of minutes, but I think it has merit. I cannot in any way see how hell can be viewed in any way but hateful - the merciless torture of perhaps countless millions does not seem very loving, kind, or grace infused. It does seem cruel, spiteful, and malicious. It does little to relieve the suffering of the innocent, the victims, the weak, or the needy. It does not undue the centuries of cruelty, hate, and violence. It doesn't seem to do much more than torture and inflict pain. It does not change the past, does not reform the sinner, does not proclaim the glory and love of god. It seems to me to be a projection of self-righteous hate, a zealous hope for vengeance devoid of justice and mercy (so proudly declared by christians). Hell serves no perceivable function save the propagation of violence and suffering. It is, in a word, hateful.

On Hold

"If God puts you on hold, don't hang up."

Every day as I drive to and from work I pass a local church with a public message board that usually contains a cheesy little thought. The other day when I passed by, the above quote was posted on it, and although it is in its own right cheesy, it caught my attention. In my faith journey I have recently come to terms with the reality that I am post-christian. I did not leave off faith easily and still occasionally catch myself looking back, hoping to see or experience/feel that touch of the divine once more. Alas, faith in the christian gospel seems to be beyond my reach at this stage of my journey, but I can't help keeping my thumb in a theological idea: that perhaps, just perhaps, I am just going through a desert expeience, that god has withdrawn his hand to test/refine/prove me - that one day I shall once again abound with faith. For all intents and purposes, I am a sincere agnostic, not atheist, and am entirely open to a manifestation/understanding/experience of the divine that would restore my faith - but I am not hopeful. My day to day experience is increasingly becoming that of a practical atheist (although I am not in fact an atheist - while no longer believing in the christian theory of god I have not turned my back on the possibility or conceptual theory of (a) god). As I read the cheesy church message it really did strike me - perhaps god has indeed put me on hold? It actually made me smile, and the quaintness of it appealed to me. But then, I began to consider it more closely. If god put me on hold, why didn't he let me know that? Why would he do that? How long am I supposed to wait? And can god's silence really affect my conceptual, experiential understanding so dramatically? If god is not directly in communion with me, can I lose my faith? If so, what faith did I really have? More and more questions began to be formulated as a result of that sign. I guess the reality that my deconversion has been a long (relatively) process, and if I had in fact been put on hold, I doubt if I could trace back to when that would have happened (how long have I been talking to myself, not realizing god had put the phone down?). In the end, the sign was a pleasant reminder of the mystery of faith - the mystery that is so clouded as to become meaningless.

Identity

Identity, I have one -
But I don't know what it is.
I know who I am, but not why -
Nor who I want to be.
What I was or where I'm from -
Who I am is neither one.
I am me, who do you see -
who will I be tomorrow?